The Last Priestess: Part II
by savannah0707
Summary: In Part II of our story, Anabelle Abbott will find that the love of a good Knight is the cure to her safety. Still in hiding from her murderous fiance, Anabelle knows that she will soon have to fight, but will she be ready for what is to come? And will she stay for Mordred in the end, or leave all over again? This one is definitely rated M my readers. Trek with caution.
1. Chapter 1

Questions? Questions anyone? Of course if you have just finished reading Part I of _The Last Priestess,_ you have many questions. This was done mostly intentionally. I wanted there to be questions to answer in Part II.

**How did Anabelle and Arthur become as close as they are?**

**Why is Gwen still Morgana's puppet? Why hasn't Arthur tried to retrieve his adored Queen again?**

**How does Anabelle know that Merlin is Emrys?**

And those are just a few of the very important question that I plan to answer and resolve in Part II of _The Last Priestess_.

Happy Reading!

**The Last Priestess:**

Chapter 1: **The Tears of a Heart**

"Why was she alone? This is precisely the reason I insisted she be guarded at all times."

"She was guarded. But you know Anabelle." Merlin tried what he could to subdue the still uneasy King as he ranted through his room. "She is quite a stubborn woman."

Arthur looked like he might start to breathe fire in Merlin's direction. "You're welcome to leave Merlin." He paced back and forth. "I need to go see her." His anger was subsiding in marginal degrees as he paced the room.

"You can't yet." Leon spoke after his King had finished the thundering lecture. "Gaius has said that she needs to rest now. He and Gwaine refuse to let anyone to see her."

"I am the King!" Arthur yelled like a petulant child.

"Medical attention currently outranks us all." Mordred winced in more pain, shifting his arm around in the tourniquet it rested in. "Gwaine won't allow me and Leon even near her door."

"That is about to change." Arthur was determined more than anything to see his Anabelle. Enough was enough.

"Arthur…" Anabelle murmured. "Arthur, don't let me go."

Gwaine put a hand to her cheek, calming the exhausted woman. She had slept on and off over the past three days, but her enervation did little for her recovery. When she slept, he kept watch, listening to her endure and relive her pleas to Arthur and the men charged to keep her safe. Losing Anabelle, coming to the recognition that she had been taken by force from him, had set a fire within him. When they found her half alive in the darkness of the woods, he had not felt as whole as he had in that moment. He vowed everyday to her to never let that happen again. He stood, crossing the room as Gaius quietly entered.

"Has she said anything more?" He asked, but Gwaine only shook his head.

"She continues to have nightmares. She calls out to Arthur, to me, to Mordred, and to Leon. I should've been there." He growled, slamming his fist onto the wood table.

"You were there Gwaine." Gaius and Gwaine both heard Anabelle weakly speak, sitting up slightly to see him. "You found me."

Gwaine was at her side in a blink, helping her to sit up. "You should be resting Princess."

She refused. "Every time I close my eyes, I see it all happening again."

"Are you ready to talk about any of it?"

Anabelle ran her fingers through his hair sweetly. "I know you are trying to help."

"At least tell me how Mordred knew where to find you. If not for him…"

Anabelle drank another draft given by Gaius before saying anything more. "You are going to think I'm insane to tell you. The truth is completely mad."

"I trust anything you would say Anabelle."

"Mordred knew where to find me; he knew how to get to me because…" pausing shortly, she looked to her door, hoping to see him. "He has saved me the same way in the same place. The tree, the rope, my injuries… it's all the same. It is how I knew his face perfectly when I arrived seeking Arthur."

"Did you?"

"I did not know his name or that he was a Knight, but I knew the kindness of his eyes and his heart."

The two men stared back at her, perplexed by what she told them.

"I told you I would sound absolutely mad."

"It sounds as if the lines of time that bring you to us, experienced a sort of deja-vu." Gaius reasoned. "An echo of things to come."

"That can happen?" Anabelle and Gwaine asked.

Gaius did not answer either as the door was burst open. Arthur walked resolutely into the room, dead set on reaching Anabelle.

"Arthur." Anabelle thankfully said. She too had been on edge for days, unable to see him.

"Anabelle." He maneuvered by Gwaine, taking Anabelle lightly into his arms, holding on as if she might disappear.

"Your highness." Gaius objected. "She really must take her time to recover."

"I am King." Anabelle chuckled under his threatening tone. "I will have ten minutes alone with my friend.

Neither Gaius nor Gwaine argued further, hearing the express tone of Arthur. Both exited the room, closing the door behind.

"You look wrecked." Anabelle laughed, holding her throbbing ribs.

"I am." He admitted. "I nearly lost you." Looking away from her, he tensed at the thought of losing her again. "You cannot be so careless Anabelle. Your safety is in jeopardy."

"You are lecturing me? I did what I was told to do Arthur." She debated with him.

"The arrow that hit Mordred was meant for you Anabelle. If it had hit you…"

"I don't think it was meant for me Arthur." She halted the undeserved reprimand he was about to give. "Be rational with me for a few minutes while I put this all into a logical perspective we can agree to."

Arthur still didn't turn to her. He didn't say anything, so she went on speaking.

"The arrow that hit Mordred was meant to strike him-or any other Knight with me. If the arrow had been meant to hit me, I would not have been taken from the castle."

Arthur conceded her point. Anyone who planned to kill Anabelle with an arrow would not need to knock her out or kidnap her from Camelot.

"That makes sense Anabelle." He stood, walking to the other side of the bed. Crawling in beside her, the two repositioned into a comfortable spot together. "But that must imply that if Trystan is trying to get to you, he has help. He has magic, and he has others willing to assist him."

The understanding that there would be more than one person searching for Anabelle was more of a problem, but neither Anabelle or Arthur wanted to further discuss things any longer. Anabelle fell asleep with Arthur following suit shortly after, sleeping restfully for much of the day. Evening rolled around as Anabelle woke, the feel of Arthur's arms no longer holding her close. He was not beside her or anywhere in her room. Carefully, she swung her legs from her bed, standing for the first time in days. Her legs were sore and bruised, nearly giving out on her as Gwaine entered.

"Anabelle." He started to chastise, silenced by only a hand in the air.

"I will not stay locked in a tower simply because the dragon roams the dark streets." She informed her Knight, even if he did not understand the reference she made. "I am going for a walk whether you approve or not. I would like to find Arthur."

Gwaine knew it was not a good idea for her to walk anywhere in her condition, but he could not stop her. He could only defend and guard her. He also knew that it was not wise of her to go seeking Arthur this night. But under the thumb of her determination and stubbornness, he agreed.

"I will go walking with you." He promised. "But we will not walk alone. If you will wait here a short time my lady, I am sure that there are at least three more Knights who are infuriating the shit out of me to see you."

Anabelle grinned. "They would not give you trouble if you'd let them in." She told him. "How are they?"

"Worried. Crazed. Lifeless. Tortured. Take your pick of words Princess."

Anabelle agreed to wait for Gwaine who as promised was gone only a short time. She could soon enough hear the running footsteps making their way down the hallway to her. Standing as skillfully as possible, she was upright by the time Leon and Percival unlocked her door, more elated to see her.

"Are you well?" Leon stoically asked.

"I am well enough to hug you both." She demanded, her arms lifted only above her waist.

Both men hugged her gently, praising her bravery under fire as they called it.

"You did the right thing Anabelle." Percival claimed.

"Arthur doesn't think so. He told me that I was careless."

"The King has been distraught over the possibilities he faced." Leon defended. " As time passes, he understands more that you were not reckless."

"Careless."

"You were neither and I will continue to let the King know that." Anabelle heard the low honeyed voice that made her stomach flip. "You did as I told you." Mordred stood in her doorway, waiting for Percival and Leon to step away.

Anabelle did not wait. Pushing by the two men, she felt as though she flew into the man's arms. She looked down at his arm, running her hand over it.

"You saved my life again. Twice in one night. You found me."

Mordred said nothing yet. Ignoring his pain and hers, both arms reached to her, pressing her entire body to his. "I will always find you Anabelle." He whispered, also ignoring the look Gwaine gave him.

"I know you will." She acknowledged, pulling away. "But my ribs are still fragile. Less pulling, more wrapping."

Mordred released her as if she were on fire, keeping one arm to her shoulders. Walking out of the room with all four men surrounding her, Anabelle felt safe again.

"Now, where can I find my Arthur?"

Gwaine gave a sympathetic gaze in her direction. "The King is in a place of the castle that he generally prefers to be alone in."

"This is not the time to be cryptic Gwaine. I am welcome to his side at any time and in all places of the castle."

"Anabelle," Mordred whispered to her, " this is an anniversary that Arthur would sooner forget than share."

"I do not understand."

"This is the night that the Queen was permanently banished from his life after she chose Morgana."

Standing still in place, she might have stomped her foot to the floor if not for her ribs.

"It was the Queen who made the choice." Anabelle mused aloud. Deep down she had known that Arthur had his reasons for refusing to discuss Guinevere, but she had never assumed it had been so tormenting.

"Come along Anabelle." Leon helped. "If you insist on seeing the King-if there is anyone who can mend his grief, it may well be you."

The company of five reached a large door that Anabelle had never once thought to peek behind. The room on the opposite side once belonged to Uther, and Anabelle did not like to pry when it came to the former King. Percival opened the door, stepping to the side to let Anabelle through. What she saw when she walked into the expansive and ornately decorated space was not expected.

Arthur looked up at her from where he knelt in the middle of the room. His cheeks were stained by the tracks of his heartbroken tears. Anabelle knelt by him, taking his hand. His arm swept around her, keeping her to him.

"This is where she left me. This is where I lost her."

Anabelle did not like seeing him like this. He had been through so much, and now to be forced to give further account of what happened seemed too much-even for the King of Camelot.

"Arthur, what can I do?" She desperately wanted to know how to help him.

Lifting his arm away, he stood over her, wiping his face, looking presentable again. Helping her stand, he kept her in place, looking at her far different than he ever had. Anabelle did not recognize the look in his eyes this time.

"What can I do my sweet?" I would do anything to take away this pain for you."

"Anything?" He trailed his fingers over the bare skin of her shoulders.

"You know you can ask anything of me and it is yours."

Time felt like it were standing still in the room. The air around Anabelle grew warmer with each passing second. She felt his hands move to her waist, pulling her as close as they could get. Without question or answer, his palm rested to her back. His mouth grazed her neck, giving Anabelle the strangest sensations. Her best friend was kissing her. His loneliness and loss were clear to her. What he had needed for so long after the Queen left, was comfort. He did not love his Anabelle in the same way, but she could help to console his grieving heart. Tilting her head to him, she allowed him to kiss her, fiercely taking her mouth with his.


	2. Chapter 2: Consequences of Our Actions

**I do apologize for the delay in posting. After careful thought to this story, I have decided to make it 3 parts instead of 2. Whereas Part 1 was much about Anabelle and Arthur, Part 2 is developing into a Arthur/Anabelle/ Mordred piece, and Part 3 in my head and on paper is turning out to definitely be my Anabelle/Mordred piece.**

**The Last Priestess:**

Chapter 2**: THE CONSEQUENCES OF OUR ACTIONS**

There was no way around it. She had kissed her best-friend; had allowed him to kiss her, granting permission to be pulled into the abyss of what could never be. She had solved a problem and ended up wearing only Arthur's shirt. Admittedly things could have been worse, but destroying her closeness with the blond at her side was not an option. Lying on her side, pulling at the string on a pillow, her eyes stared blankly at the closed curtains of his bedroom. She knew that he too was awake when his fingers drew a slow line from her shoulder to her wrist.

"You're awake." She rolled over to face her friend, catching the same guilt in his eyes before he could hide it.

"I'm sorry Anabelle." Arthur openly acknowledged.

Anabelle was not surprised by the regret in either of them. Nothing so reckless had ever happened between them. Anabelle had been the one Arthur came to after his unwise choices. Their friendship was a prosaic one. There was no pretense, no hiding, and no ill-advised incidences. They'd always had truth between them.

"We have woken up beside one another before Arthur." She said.

He smirked, but did not let her off the hook. "Not like this. If we weren't such good friends, this may have gone further."

He blamed himself for what Anabelle referred to as an "incident" in her own head. She wouldn't allow fault to lay solely with him. She was an adult and responsible for her own choices. She was certainly not blameless. She had let herself fall so carelessly, damning the consequences.

"I knew what I was doing Arthur." Anabelle verified. "I knew what I was getting myself into."

She heard her friend give his best resisting groan, lying back on his hands as she shifted over to straddle his lap.

"Can we talk about this sensibly?" She questioned, gaining a shrug from Arthur. "We come from different times, and things are different where I am from. Still, despite those differences, you are my best-friend. Under most circumstances, I would not have consented to kissing you, or ending up here overnight wearing less than is considered appropriate in this time period, but our friendship is not like any other that I have." She made herself firmly clear to him.

"You are mourning a wife who although not gone from the world, is gone from your life. I am running from a man I would have married; a man who would see me taken from you permanently. Grieving is a terrible and painful process Arthur. I will not see it consume either of us."

"I suppose I hadn't thought of it as grieving." Arthur sat up with her still on his lap. "But do you honestly see this in a positive context?"

"Did you get through the night without wanting to take a flying leap from the castle walls? Yes." She stated. "I think if keeping your sanity in tact means sacrificing a bit, it was worth it."

Arthur pushed her away without warning, moving her off of him as he stood from his bed, pulling a shirt over his head.

"I won't be done any favors Anabelle." He had obviously taken offense to her statement and she knew it.

Sighing heavily, she got to her knees, her hands at his chest, forcing him to look back at her.

"You know I didn't mean to sound so harsh. I do not make myself out to be the victim."

"You are no sacrificial lamb Anabelle."

"I do not claim to be my sweet. I have simply given temporary solution to a horrible event you are forced to endure."

He was quietly only for a few brief seconds as he looked faithfully back at her. Walking away though, his attitude changed. He opened his curtains, refusing to go back over to her.

"You are a pill." He finally pointed out to her.

"Why?" She stood after he had left her to get dressed. "Because I'm not afraid to be honest with you? Or is it because I'm not afraid to hurt your feelings in order for you to see sense. No matter how long I'm gone from this place and time, I still know you better than most."

"You are being impossible."

Anabelle emerged from behind a still closed curtain. "I'm allowed to be impossible every once in a while Arthur." Their voices were now raised in heated debate, emotions pouring out of each. "When I see my friend starting to crumble in front of my eyes, I'm given unlimited permission to be as unreasonable or impossible as I want. I will not let what I saw you experience last night eat away at you with each passing year or day. I will not let it take you from me."

"You cannot fix this Anabelle!"

"No, you're right." She was marginally quieted as Mordred ran into the room, Leon at his back, having heard the loud disagreement, but Anabelle went on anyway. "I cannot fix this. I cannot bring her back to you. And I cannot snap my fingers and make this whole situation better for you or non-existent. I would if I could, but for now I do what I can to lessen the torture still residing in you for as long as possible."

"You're still making yourself out to be the martyr in this situation Anabelle."

She screamed at him. She wanted to haul off and smack sense into him, but settled for screaming before walking out of the room, followed by her concerned Knights, who dared not ask questions. Storming off down the lit corridors, Anabelle needed to cool off. She hated to fight with her Arthur, but was too angry to see straight and go back. Arthur could easily be unreasonable, but it annoyed her to the point of lashing out irrationally when his fits of absurdity were directed at her. Both Knights stood back as she entered her room, slamming the large shut angrily. Screaming into her pillows proved ineffective, so she paced from one end to the other for ten minutes, intruded on by Mordred, Leon, and soon Gwaine shortly after. Drawing all of her windows and curtains closed, their weapons unsheathed and ready, Mordred sat Anabelle into a chair, keeping his attention around the room. It was not clear what was happening until the castle alarms were set off.

"What is going on?" Panic set in as Anabelle knew to stay seated. All too soon she was rattled. "Is it Trystan again? Where is Arthur?"

It was amazing to her. She could be as angry as fire with the man, not want to see him, and as if on instinct, if a problem rose, it was Arthur she wanted protecting her.

"One of the Knights came across a man in the castle who was not known." Gwaine was more than forthcoming with the terrorized woman.

"A man. What man? Was he wearing foreign clothing? Did he have a weapon? Am I in more danger sitting here? What…" Anabelle was asking questions one after another, with no reply to any of them.

Mordred knelt beside her, his hand steadied over her shaking hands. "Anabelle, you are safe here. We will not let anything happen to you."

Positioning her hand to the side of his face, she grew less confident about the status of their increasing emotional standing as he recoiled, standing back up to walk away. The alarms died down fifteen minutes after starting, but Anabelle was still not permitted to exit her room. Told to wait for word from Arthur, that was what she did, waiting a full hour before he entered, going directly to her side, holding her hand when she offered.

"Where were you?" She wanted to know. "I was worried."

Arthur looked down to her, knowing everything she said to him was in truth. "I went to look for the intruder Anabelle." He knelt in front of her, placing her forehead to hers. "I'm sorry we fought."

"As am I." She leaned back, remembering that they were watched. "Tell me what you have found."

Arthur stood, his gaze back on his knights. "We found nothing. Whoever entered the castle walls, disappeared without detection."

"What does that mean?" Anabelle stood, walking over to a window, opening it in spite of the concerned men with her.

There were Knights sparring in the training arena again. Watching them battle and train gave Anabelle an idea of her own. It was not an idea that she could approach Arthur about. He would fly off the handle for sure—As would Leon and Mordred. No. Gwaine would be her best and potentially the only support she would have in her attempt. She looked to Gwaine subtly, seeing that he very guardedly kept her in his sight. She looked back outside to the other Knights with no clue how she would tackle Gwaine.

"My lady, you must accompany us out to train." Leon requested of her.

She nodded, pulling on her cloak. There was no way Arthur would see the logic in her choice, but pulling away from him, he hid the concern he felt until she stood with Gwaine. Gwaine saw the necessity of her intentions as she did. Agreeing to what she offered, he also knew catastrophic trouble would soon appear when Arthur discovered what they planned.

"I do not feel that bringing the Princess out into the open of our training is the safest plan." Gwaine mentioned, a cunning look in Anabelle's direction, grabbing her hand with his. "I can train on my own. I will keep her inside with me."

Arthur was reluctant to agree, but had to concede the point. Gwaine was right. Anabelle had a target on her back, and he was not willing to risk her life in any way. Halfheartedly, he consented, leaving Anabelle to walk away with one lone Knight.

"Come with me." Gwaine instructed, keeping Anabelle close to his side, his sword still drawn, expecting the unexpected. Leading her into the Knight's Quarters, both eyed one another understanding and agreeing that they were walking into something that could not be undone.

"Pick that up." Gwaine said, walking into the small space they were given, only turning when Anabelle picked up the large sword he had pointed out.

She held it up, feeling the weight of it in her bare hands. The sides and tip were sharpened, and its power was immeasurable to her.

"Now," Gwaine focused her attention to him, "come towards me as if to strike."

Anabelle did as she was instructed, instantly disarmed by the Knight who swung his own sword. The pair went on for the next few hours, learning and practicing in a first lesson. Tiring of drills and exercises, Gwaine left Anabelle to continue on her own only when Leon, Mordred, and Percival joined them.

"What in the name of the King is going on here?" Leon sounded cross, seeing Anabelle with a sword in her hands, and Gwaine pointing his own sword at the novice Princess.

"Self-defense tactics." Anabelle explained, turning to the three uneasy men. "I asked Gwaine to teach me how to use a sword in case I am attacked or taken again."

"And you felt that Gwaine was the best person to instruct you Princess?" Percival inquired, carefully taking the sword from Anabelle's hands, setting it to the side.

Gwaine objected to the insult, but the Princess only crossed her arms. "Would you have been so willing to point your sword at me?"

"No." He answered her. "And nor should Gwaine." He chastised.

"Leon?" Anabelle asked. "Are you willing to take his place?"

"No I am not my lady. And I do not understand why you are so concerned by learning such violent practices."

Anabelle turned to Gwaine. "It's not as if I let you come at me with a mace. Geez they're sensitive." She then watched Mordred's eyes darken at the visual idea of her statement.

"The King will take issue with this." Mordred told her.

"The King does not need to know."

The men were all wary to agree. Mordred was willing to approach this subject with her, but not in the company of others.

"I'd like to speak with the Princess alone please."

His request was given without hesitation, with the two left on their own to discuss what Anabelle would not give up. Anabelle was certain he would argue, even yell at her in order to gain her submission, but she was not a Princess who would submit so easily to others.

"Anabelle." Mordred touched his hands to her shoulders, causing her to jump.

"You cannot convince me that there is no need for me to do this." Her usual soft tone had a bite to it. "You will not change my mind."

"I don't want to change your mind." He turned her around to face him. "I want to help."

Searching his face, his eyes for a sign of untruth or reluctance, she wanted to trust what he said, but knew better now that he would never allow her to so willingly face danger on her own.

"No you don't." She argued, pulling from his grip. She kicked at the wall behind her.

Mordred walked back to where she stood, his hands held up in surrender to her. Moving his palms over her shoulders, he felt the pressure and anxiety residing within her.

"You cannot be angry with me for this Anabelle." His arms hugged her waist, consoling the woman he so cared for.

"I can try."

"But what purpose would it serve? Do you not already know that I have your best interests at heart?"

"Of course I know that." She said. "But I am not a helpless Princess." She forced herself out of his arms, releasing him. "Arthur thinks that my being at his side at all times will change the designs of another attack, but the truth is, if I was taken once, I can be taken again." Her eyes met Mordred's, becoming serious very rapidly. "If by some stretch of the imagination, I am faced with having to fight off a confrontation on my own; if Arthur or any of you are not at my side to fight, should I not fight to stay alive?"

"Anabelle." Mordred's eyes closed, imagining the possibilities of what could happen. She made good points and he understood more and more the King's frustration with a Princess who was logical in her choices, and of a woman who did not want to be treated as a helpless Princess.

Walking up to her without any uncertainty in his stride, his hand went straight to her waist, lifting the woman up, his mouth crashing onto hers with a deafening tone, the near wall at her back. Anabelle couldn't see, hear, or think properly when he kissed her. He had not done it often enough in her opinion, but when he did, it was unlike any feeling she had ever known.

His throat felt hot and scratchy as he spoke, pressing himself into her.

"You cannot think that I would not be at your side again, that I would ever fail to find you, to fight for you, or to die for you."

Anabelle was soon rushing back to reality, her thoughts flooding back into her head as Mordred kissed her neck, her hands still pulling him closer.

"I will not ask you or anyone else to die for me."

The mood had been killed as Mordred set her back to the ground, taking a step back, the distance between them increasing again. "It may not be a choice you are given Princess. We are sworn to protect you. I would give my life for yours."

Anabelle stared hard back at the unyielding man, finding the immediate need to escape the current conversation. Knowing full well that he, Arthur, Gwaine, and Leon would fight to defend her was not a new concept, but the very idea that any one of them would lose a fight to Trystan over her had not been considered.

"I have to go." She said.

"Go where Anabelle?" Mordred followed her to the door.

"Anywhere but here. I need to be by Arthur. I need to talk to him. Where is he?"

He had come to understand the close and different practices of her friendship with Arthur. He did not always like that Arthur was the first person she would run to when confronted by any sort of trouble, but he understood it.

"I believe he is in Council. I will take you to him."

"Thank you." She opened the door, forcefully thrown back by force into Mordred's arms, both tumbling hard to the ground floor.

As she rolled over, shifting her body off of Mordred, who kept his hands to her, Anabelle looked up.

"Hello my pet."

She hid any fear or anxiety that bubbled up inside of her. She was not willing to show weakness to the man standing above her. His long blond hair and gray eyes had once reminded her of Arthur. Now they were a reminder of the hate and evil she faced.

"Trystan." She escaped Mordred's hold, standing, only to be grabbed by her throat, pushed and held to another wall by her neck.

"Anabelle!" Mordred stood, his sword drawn at Trystan's back.

"Do not test me Knight!" Trystan swore. "You are stealing what is mine to claim." With the magic he proved to have, he removed the weapon threatening him.

The sword flew to the side of the room as Mordred then attacked with full force. Keeping hold of Anabelle, Trystan looked to effortlessly push the young Knight into a wall with the full force of his magic.

Trystan did not let go of Anabelle, keeping her pinned, whispering into her ear. "I am not staying my dearest love. I have only come in order to demonstrate the simplicity of my finding you." He kissed her as she continued to struggle, trying to move him away, hitting him with all of the force she could summon.

"You should not have run Anabelle." Dropping her from his grasp, Anabelle hit her knees, choking as air reached her throat again.

Anabelle watched in horror as Trystan disappeared, Mordred by her side, helping her to stand.

"We can't tell Arthur about this." Anabelle warned the man.

Mordred looked horrified by her statement. "I must tell him. His primary concern is for you."

She shook her head before exiting the room. "It will be bad enough when he finds out that I have tasked Gwaine to teach me sword play, but hearing about this will be much worse."

Mordred hadn't agreed to keep this moment secret from Arthur for Anabelle, but would stay quiet for now.


	3. Chapter 3: A Lesson In Vengeance

**NOTE TO READERS: THIS CHAPTER IS RATED M. TREAD WITH CAUTION! ALTHOUGH NOT AS BLATANT AND IN YOUR FACE AS MY PREVIOUS WORK (I'm saving those scenes for later chapters), YOU ARE WARNED. Scenes of sexual nature ahead.**

**The Last Priestess: Part II**

Chapter 3: **A LESSON IN VENGEANCE**

There were no words to describe her current unnerving. She had come face to face with Trystan. She had seen the scheme and the iniquity residing within him. He had done exactly what she knew he could—he had found her, he had threatened her, and he had separated her from every protector she had. Being sent to Arthur had sounded like the best and safest idea when it had been presented to her, but now she realized that even he would not be safe. Anabelle's entire body was on high alert as she and Mordred reached the locked Council room doors. Percival and Gwaine both stood in front of the doors, laughing over a joke between them. When Anabelle approached, their laughter stopped. Either she looked worse than she felt, or something more was transpiring.

"Anabelle, are you hurt?" Percival was at her side, motioning for Gwaine to examine the red markings now gracing her neckline.

His questioning confirmed the indication that their concern stemmed from her outer appearance.

"I'm fine." She replied without missing a step. "I do not need to examined so closely." She shooed both men away.

Opening his mouth to dispute her objection, Gwaine was hushed by Mordred's shaking head.

"The doors are locked." Anabelle noticed, trying them. "Is Arthur still in Council?"

Percival faltered, leaving the other man to answer.

"Not exactly Princess."

"Good, then I would like to see him immediately."

"I cannot allow that Anabelle." Gwaine refused, clearing his throat uncomfortably. "The King has given precise instruction that no one be given access to this room until he says otherwise."

"And by no one, that includes me?"

"I'm afraid so Princess." Percival added. "That strictly includes you."

Arguing over whether or not she should or should not be granted permission to enter the room to see Arthur currently, Anabelle and the three Knights were not at all expecting the doors of the room to open without warning to them. The crying woman who ran out, pulling her dress straps over her shoulders had not been a sight Anabelle could have predicted either. All four people stood still in place, looking thoroughly befuddled. Gwaine finally conceded to Anabelle's wishes, allowing her and Mordred to carefully enter the large room.

"Arthur?" Anabelle called out, seeing him appear from behind a wall at the opposite end of the room, straightening his shirt. It was clear that he had just redressed himself.

Her expression went from one of concern to one of distaste for his behavior. "Is this how you've been coping with your loss?" She inquired of him. "What's her name?"

Arthur crossed his arms, giving Anabelle an intense glare. She was judging _his_ behavior? When she herself had empathized with him enough to do the same thing. It wasn't hours before that she had found herself waking up beside him, under the same pretense of friendship and companionship. He shook his head. He would not be judged by anyone, especially her. He was King.

"Who cares. And why should it matter to you what her name is? We are not betrothed to one another. You have no right to demand such answers from me." He snapped at Anabelle.

She was stunned by his reply, frozen in place as he called Mordred over to him. Mordred glanced sympathetically to Anabelle before going to where the King stood. The two men spoke in hushed voices away from the Princess before Mordred returned to her side, his palm on her waist, leading her back out of the room again.

Anabelle spun around out of his touch, walking back to where Arthur stood, waiting for her to leave. There was more that was not being said by the King. She had never been one to let him get away with this sort of conduct. She wasn't about to start now. Continuing to infuriate one another, Anabelle stayed put.

"You won't ask me to leave, but have Mordred escort me away from you?" With a building fury in her, she spoke to Mordred next. "Leave." She told him. "Wait outside of this room if you insist upon doing so, but the King and I are going to have a very loud discussion." She turned back to the blond. "Do not come back into this room unless I tell you that I am in danger."

Mordred looked to the King for his response, but Arthur as well was given no choice but to comply with the insistence of a Princess. He waved a hand, sending the man out of the room. Once alone in the room, Anabelle wanted answers.

"I want to know what the hell is wrong with you. Why are you treating me so unkindly?" She did pause in her own anger long enough to look her friend in the eye, still searching for the man she had lost. "If I have done anything to cause you anger, and ill-treatment of me, I hope we can discuss it as we always have."

Arthur sighed in exasperation of her, walking away, uninterested in talking.

"Arthur!" Anabelle shouted.

"Anabelle, stop!" He whirled around, shouting back at her.

She had warned Mordred that this discussion would be loud, but had not wholly expected Arthur to yell in return. He had never really yelled at her before this.

"I do not want to talk about this!" He continued to raise his voice to her.

Anabelle was perfectly willing to let him vent and yell his frustrations out, but to not give her any answers was not an option in her book.

"I don't care!" She returned. "This is no longer going to be about what you want. I have enough trouble to worry about, so I am not going to idly provide you permission to walk away from me without giving me some clue as to why you are suddenly so cross with me." She was breathing harder from yelling. She touched the nearest chair, sitting down.

Arthur continued to walk away, stopping at the door as his palm hit the wooden structure. Damn he so reviled how much he needed her sometimes. He loved her, but really hated that love was never a convenient process. Although not in love with her, Arthur admittedly loved Anabelle so much more than he thought possible for one man.

"Anabelle." He whispered back to her. "I owe you an apology, but I cannot yet give it." That said, Arthur opened the doors, walking past the three Knights, leaving Anabelle to sit alone in the darkening room.

She stated until the room was unlit and completely darkened by the night sky, a steady hand touching to her shoulder only when she had taken enough time to sit on her own.

"Anabelle, it is late." Gwaine's voice spoke from the open doorway.

Even in the darkness, she knew the fingers that traced her shoulder, moving to her lower back, pulling her to him as she wrapped both arms around him. Anabelle stayed pressed against him, holding tight long enough to realize the affection she felt was being noticed by others. She released the Knight, backing away slowly, still recognizing the intensity and compassion in his gaze.

"Come along my lady. We will take you to your room. It is quite late." Mordred said to her, his hand still at her back.

This was not the end of their questions or answers, but neither Anabelle nor Mordred were going to attempt to tackle their personal desires publicly. Anabelle only nodded, pulling her hair away from her face, wiping at her tear-stained cheeks. Quietly the four walked back down the torch lit corridors, the three men far less than willing to approach helping any disagreement being had between the King and their Princess. Arriving to her bed chamber doors, Anabelle did not want to be alone. The knowledge of knowing she wanted to cross the line with this Knight, coupled with her blow up with Arthur made her heart both skip and race simultaneously. Her need to not be on her own was not helped as her hand was subtly grabbed. She spun around, seeing the same passion in Mordred that she had seen in him just before they were caught by Trystan.

"We need to talk about what happened earlier." She demanded, insisting that he follow her. He did as she said, walking past her, opening her door, giving a quiet laugh as she stepped into her room. "This is a conversation that I do not want interrupted by anyone, including the King." She stated to Gwaine and Percival as the door and locked behind the two.

They were now alone, facing the invisible line between them.

Walking up much earlier the next morning, Anabelle felt the irresistible calm wash over her again. She relaxed into the strength of the arms still holding her waist close. His skin had not cooled any in the few hours between now and the night of passion between them. Anabelle closed her eyes, recalling every detail of what had transpired between her and Mordred once her door had closed. She could focus for hours on the look of craving that rested in his eyes as they stood across from one another after entering her room. He did not want to talk, and neither did she. They had hit a point of no return, and neither had a problem. To Anabelle's surprise, it was Mordred who had initiated their lustful behavior. Stepping toward her, he continued to look at her in a way that showed his willingness to let her know that he belonged to her and no other. There was no longer any question of his heart's loyalty.

Leaning down, his mouth came into full contact with hers, a sense of abandonment spinning through the room. While his left hand moved slowly to the back of her neck, keeping her to him, both felt their desires blending together. Stepping back a few steps, her mouth never leaving his, Anabelle hit the wall of her room, unable to move in any direction as she pulled and tugged at the Knight's tunic. She wanted more of him, and he was now more than willing to give in to her demands. Quickly complying with her wordless pleas to his clothing, he requested the same of her, slipping the straps of her dress from her shoulders, watching it fall to the stone floor.

Moving his hands to her waist, he lifted the woman up, his, his mouth moving to her neck and shoulders, a satisfying groan escaping his throat as her legs wrapped to his own waist, refusing to let him go. Eventually finding the ability to move himself and Anabelle, Mordred walked her over to her empty bed, placing her down as he stayed standing above her. Anabelle sat up, reaching up to pull him down with her.

Once laid down with her, his hands did not leave her body, exploring each and every part of her until she threatened to cry out in pleasure. The remainder of Mordred's night was spent inside of his Anabelle, only able to rest when both had exhausted the burning fires for each other. Anabelle had never known such pure emotion from one man, and doubted that she would ever find and experience it again. She wanted to smile at the thought of having someone care for her so deeply, she wanted to stay wrapped up in her blissful bubble, but there was a big problem. This would not last. Sooner or later, she would have to leave Camelot to run her own Kingdom. Eventually Mordred would give his life for Arthur. Feeling his arm move from her as he turned onto his back, Anabelle realized that there was an even bigger problem than leaving. Turning onto her side, running the tips of her fingers over his bare chest, she realized the unfortunate circumstance that she was falling in love.


	4. Chapter 4: Time Can Be Rewritten

**TO MY READERS:** I apologize for the lateness of posting this chapter. I am already hard at work on the next, so it will not take as much time. That's all. Oh, and please leave reviews if you are enjoying this one. Thanks bunches.

**The Last Priestess: Part II**

Chapter 4: **Time Can Be Rewritten**

Mordred knew he could not stay beside her. Watching her sleep so peacefully after waking, he regretfully and reluctantly removed his arms from the restful woman with him, dressing in a hurry. He was going to be late for training, but continued to watch Anabelle, admiring her in more ways than he could count. He admired her striking beauty, which could be her biggest targeted vulnerability when she let down her guard, but it made her no less intelligent in his eyes. She was clever, and witty, and strong in ways he would never expect her to be. It was her strength that he admired most in her. Often it could come across and harsh, but being as brutally honest, diplomatic, logical, brave, and determined as she was, was required of her each passing day. She would be a Queen in her own right one day, and would need all of her inner and outer strength to face issues of her own.

Once fully dressed, Mordred returned to her side, moving a strand of her hair away from her face. She was beautiful, he thought, and everything he could ask for. Leaning down, he kissed her forehead, whispering the only words he could express to her, causing her to shift to her side. Without anymore said, he left Anabelle's room, arriving to the weapons dispensary, alone with his own conflicted thoughts.

"I trust you had a good night." Gwaine voiced from behind him.

Anabelle awoke again, this time without the feel of Mordred beside her. Sitting straight up, she saw that she was indeed now alone. This would not have been as vexing to Anabelle if she had known that he were going to leave her on her own, but he had snuck away without a word to her. His actions had devalued their night together, and that alone had annoyed Anabelle. Getting out of bed, she found a pretty blue dress, pairing it with a grey shoulder wrap to wear. She brushed through her hair, and began to pin it up as she left her room, walking calmly down the corridors of the castle, intent on finding Mordred in order to confront him about his behavior, and demand answers as to why he had disappeared, treating her so cavalier.

"I don't want to discuss this any further!" Mordred shouted as the other Knights joked and goaded the young man into discussion about his long night with Anabelle.

Gwaine could see the frustration and fury building in his friend. He stayed as the other men left, ready to calmly and genuinely question the other man.

"Have you talked to her this morning? Have you told her how you feel?"

Mordred turned to his friend, seeing only now that Gwaine was not poking fun at him, or trying to get answers to hold over his head.

"What exactly do you think I feel about her?" Mordred questioned, unaware that Gwaine knew just how Mordred cared for Anabelle and what had transpired before her arrival.

"I think you are as in love with her as she may in fact be with you."

Mordred scoffed.

"A blind man could see that you are in love with her. Will you not tell her?"

"What would be the point? How would I tell her that she is present in my thoughts even when she is not near? How do I tell her that I care for her above all others?"

"This is serious." Gwaine reasoned out loud. "You are very much in love with her."

"If anything ever happened to her," Mordred paused, turning then to face the wall, contemplating how to accurately word his truest feelings, "you would have to bury me with her."

Gwaine could feel the seriousness in the young Knight's words. Mordred would undoubtedly give his life not only for Arthur out of duty, but for Anabelle out of love and perfect devotion.

"How do I tell her any of this?"

Gwaine nodded in recognition. It was his turn to speak again, and he knew just what to say.

"You sit her down in private, take her hands with yours, you look deep into her beautiful bright eyes, and say Anabelle, I love you more than any. Marry me." Gwaine then smiled, seeing his friend look enraged, contemplative, and agreeing all in one swift expression.

"I cannot ask her that. And that is the part that hurts the most." Mordred reasoned. "She cannot… She will not stay."

"Have you asked her to stay?"

"She has a Kingdom of her own to return to. I do not think it fair to ask her to give that up."

Gwaine wrinkled his bow. "Do you not think that she would consider abdicating for you-for love? Is it that you are afraid to ask her to stay?"

Mordred swallowed hard before answering. "I am very afraid to ask her-not that I would." He denied.

Gwaine laughed aloud this time, returning to pick up his gear.

He was definitely in love with her. She had known where to find him so late in the morning, but had not expected to eavesdrop on his conversation with Gwaine. Processing this thought, knowing that she loved him the same, Anabelle wondered if she could really give up what she knew to be with Mordred, to spend her life with him. She changed her mind and her daily path. She would leave Mordred to his own thoughts for now. He had enough to think on, and so did she. Perhaps, she thought, she should find Arthur, and allow him to apologize to her. At least she hoped he would apologize. She needed his comfort more than anything now. Walking towards his room, she was being given far too many opportunities to overhear conversations meant to be had in private. Standing behind the stone wall across from Arthur's door, she heard his voice and the voice of Merlin.

"Would you marry Anabelle?"

"I am already married Merlin." Arthur stated, and both Anabelle and Merlin could sense the same torture and despair in his words. He kept a quick pace, wanting very much to not have this conversation with anyone. "Besides, it isn't possible. She does not love me, and I do not love her. She is from a much different time too."

"But you do love her." Merlin corrected. "I have heard you say so on many occasions."

"What?!" Arthur turned with ire in his voice and eyes.

"You do love her." Merlin repeated, risking the wrath of the King. "You have told her that you love her."

Arthur then calmed and sighed loudly. He and Anabelle were from far different times in history past and her future, but were still the only two who had any understanding of how their friendship was constructed and how they made it work.

"I love her like no other." He confessed. "Along with that, I like the idea of how I love her. She is my best-friend. She alone understands the contradictions that I face in being the King in public, and then of just being Arthur when she and I sit behind closed doors."

"So, you do love her, but you will not marry her."

"I love her in the same way that she deeply cares for me. I love my friend." The King reasoned. "And I repeat again for you to hear, I am already married." He turned away from Merlin, walking back down the corridors, muttering to himself as he moved. "Not to mention that she is likely still cross with me. I expect I must apologize before she offers forgiveness."

As if things were not complicated enough, Anabelle felt as though she were being pulled in three separate directions. Why the hell was everyone trying to marry her off? She rounded the corner, coming face to face, or rather head to chest with Merlin.

She smiled, seeing the younger version of her friend, still expecting him to know her more than he did."

"Hello Emrys." She whispered his name.

"Princess." Merlin gave another skeptical look to her. "You have not told me how you know my druid name."

"And I still cannot." She said. "Not yet." She wanted very much to say more about how important to her and her life back home he was, but could not yet risk changing history so much. It was bad enough that she would find a way to keep Mordred from killing her Arthur.

"Arthur is leaving on a patrol tomorrow." Merlin interrupted her short contemplation. "I should be going my lady. I must prepare supplies for the journey."

"A patrol?" She inquired. "Where?"

"North of here. I really must go now." He told her, doing everything in his power to avoid her eyes with his.

Anabelle knew that he was not quite ready to understand and talk with her, so she had to let him by. She needed to catch up to Arthur still as it was. Watching Merlin walk away, disappearing around a corner, Anabelle turned to go find the King. She was halfway to the castle entrance before anyone questioned why she was on her own without a guard. A hand on her elbow, reaching out to grab her startled her. She might've screamed out loud if not for seeing Arthur's face.

"Are you on your own?" He whispered secretively.

"Yes I am. The Knights are training and I have no interest in joining them today. What are you doing grabbing me?" She couldn't help but smile up at him.

"We need to talk." Arthur made a point to say in his most serious tone. "Join me for a ride. I don't have any meetings until the afternoon. We can go out to the river spot you used to love so much." He wrapped his arms to her waist, resting his chin to her shoulder, innocently kissing her neck.

"Sure Arthur. That will be nice." Arthur had never been one to give Anabelle a conventional apology. He always did something nice for her, show how apologetic he was before telling her. She agreed, knowing this was his way of crawling back into her good graces.

Immediately the two were walking hand-in-hand out of the castle doors. Two horses waited with two Knights to follow. Anabelle was not at all surprised to see Leon smiling down at her from his own horse. Fifteen minutes after entering the North woods, following a familiar path, and riding as fast as her horse would take her, Anabelle slowed to a walk. She had passed Arthur five minutes before, with Leon keeping up barely, continuing to her favorite location near the castle. She had reached the waterline of the river as Arthur caught up, riding up on her left side.

"You remember your way quite well Princess." He said in his joking tone.

"Excuses excuses." She grinned. "You never could keep up."

Arthur laughed with her, unable to argue. He pulled his horse to a stop as they reached the widespread area they knew so well together. This was the one space the two had always had for them, a place that they could hide out when life got to be too much. Merlin was already waiting on the two, ready with a blanket and food for each.

"You lied to me Merlin. You said you were preparing for tomorrow's journey." Anabelle accused, causing the young sorcerer to turn a bright red.

"The King wanted to surprise you. I was sworn to secrecy on pain of death."

Anabelle smiled. "Taking it a bit far with death threats your Highness."

Arthur only gave her a look of contentment, helping her down from her horse. Anabelle searched the area first as Arthur had always taught her to do before running into a clearing.

"I have always loved this place." Anabelle then said when she got no answer. "It is still so peaceful." The trees were as tall as she remembered and it looked as though the grass and bushes surrounding them had been well kept. It made the Princess wonder if Arthur had returned to this spot during her absence. As she stepped closer to the edge of the water again, she looked down into the clear body of water, seeing the King's face appear at her side shortly after.

"So, the real reason you won our race this time, was because I stopped to smell the roses." From behind his back Arthur pulled out a single yellow rose, kneeling beside her, pulling her down beside him. Her back rested to his chest while his arms kept her close, his fingers linking with hers.

"You always were sweet to me Arthur."

As the two spoke quietly, enjoying their time away from Court, Anabelle could not ignore the conspicuous caution and attention Merlin showed. She wanted so much more to reveal her own secrets, to tell him of any plan she had to now help him in his mission to prevent Mordred from killing their friend, but honestly she still had no idea herself how she would accomplish the goal. Instead she kept her attention to Arthur, making a mental note to pull the young Merlin to the side again.

"I owe you an apology Anabelle." Arthur whispered to his friend.

"And you have more than given it my heart."

Arthur shook his head. "No, I have not." He took her chin with the tips of his fingers, moving her head to face up at him. "I love you Anabelle and I am sorry that we fought. I didn't sleep last night for thinking about how I hurt you. I am sorry that I pushed you away instead of trusting you as much as I do."

Anabelle wiggled her chin from his touch, turning her whole body to him. She considered sitting on his lap again, but understood how indecent it might seem to the Knights and Merlin. "I know you love me." She started, staying a foot away from him. "I could never keep my forgiveness from you." Leaning in, she kissed his cheek, going on to question him. "Will you tell me why you freaked out so unreasonably and chose instead to argue with me?"

Arthur gave a short whine, knowing she would ask him why he had run away rather than talking to her. He had hoped against hope to not have to answer. Closing his eyes tight, he had to face her.

"I spoke your name." He confessed.

Anabelle gave her friend a perplexing look, trying to comprehend what he meant. "Arthur darling, you have spoken my name countless times."

As he shook his head back and forth again, looking mostly mortified by their conversation, Anabelle began to catch on. "You called that woman by my name while you were—"

"Anabelle." He cut her off, unable to let her continue.

"Arthur, it's fine." She told him. "And you should not have thrown such a tantrum over this."

"It is not fine Anabelle."

The conversation continued between the two until the King's biggest admission slipped out.

"It was not the first time he had said her name during the throws of passion.

"This wasn't the first time Anabelle." He had said to her.

A large ringing started slow in Anabelle's ears, building to a larger buzzing that would not go away. Arthur had called out her name, the name of his friend while with the Queen. No wonder Gwen had deflected and sided with Morgana. Anabelle needed to deal with this, and she would have to do it soon.

"Merlin says that you are going on another patrol in the morning. Where are you off to this time?"

Arthur nodded. "There have been rumors of sorcery in the North woods, farther from here." He assured. "There have been sightings of druids conducting magic and-"

The words buzzed in her head as if she had heard them before. "He cannot be permitted to join the expedition north." She heard her instructor and friend say to her. How had she forgotten his words? Without hesitation, she turned back to Arthur.

"Mordred cannot go with you this time." She insisted.

Arthur pursed his lips, considering what reasons she might have to deny one of his best Knights this opportunity.

"I will leave Percival with you Anabelle."

"No." She argued on. Taking his hands with hers, she grew serious enough for him to listen and understand. "If you take Mordred, it will change history, and we cannot have that. I only make this request to help you and your journey."

A change in history, Arthur could not argue against her. "I will be away for at least a week Anabelle. I must know that you will be safe."

"Do you not think that young Mordred can keep me safe?"

"I do not doubt that he will do as I insist, but…"

"Arthur please." Anabelle gave a final plea. "This is important to me and it will be important to you soon."

The blond placed his hand to the side of her face, looking back at her with kindness and defeat. She could always defeat him.

"I cannot deny you anything Anabelle." He conceded.

A few hours later, Anabelle had come up with half of a plan. Gathering what remained of Anabelle and Arthur's morning together, Merlin could feel eyes on him. Looking up, he saw the young Princess cautiously making eye contact.

"Emrys." She said without being near him or moving her mouth to speak to him. She instantly saw the look of shock and conflict crossing his face. "Emrys, do not let Arthur or his Knights see you so unnerved."

He gave a subtle nod with his chin, eyes still upon her.

"You have magic." Anabelle then heard him return in the same way.

She too gave an indistinct nod. "Arthur must not know—nor can Mordred yet. I have found a way to keep the young Knight from harming our King."

"How?"

"Mordred will not be joining this leaving patrol." She explained, also attempting an account of the young druid girl he and Arthur would find while away, and the trouble that her death could cause for their purpose.

"When we return with her, Mordred will see her, and we will be back to the start." Merlin debated.

Anabelle shook her head as Arthur mounted his horse beside her. "I have that covered. He will not know that she is here or of her fate."


	5. Chapter 5: The Science of Magic

**READERS: SCENE OF LARGER SEXUAL NATURE WITHIN. Before I said tread with caution. I now give extreme cautionary warning.**

**The Last Priestess: Part II**

Chapter 5: **The Science of Magic and the Magic of Science**

She had not been able to rest peacefully all night, with dreams of each man charged to protect her rushing to their deaths at the points of swords, Trystan laying waste to all of Camelot to get what he considered his, and herself forced into imprisonment. Waking from yet another nightmare, Anabelle opened her eyes, going to her bedroom door to see Gwaine standing guard. He was sympathetic to her appearance and lack of sleep. He was always reasonably willing to escort her to Arthur.

Even late into the night, nearing dawn, Anabelle could count on comfort from Arthur. He had never refused her or sent her away. She had no need to knock on his door, especially at such a late hour. She entered his chambers quietly, bidding her Gwaine a safe and promising journey as he would accompany the King in a few short hours.

Crawling into bed beside her friend, Anabelle was comforted as soon as the arms pulling her close, holding her even as he slept rested at her back. She wondered if the King had truly been asleep when he kissed the top of her head. She laid her head right next to his, finally feeling calm within her. Her eyes closed, guiding soon into sleep. The nightmares stayed. She could not shake the visions of Camelot burning, people dying, and history changing. She screamed as she slept, Arthur's arms still around her, cold sweat bringing on more friction within her. A hand placed upon her forehead startled her from the ruthless visions. Opening her eyes, Merlin stood above the terrified Princess, his healing hand on her forehead. Arthur was at her side in seconds when Merlin spoke. The King looked ready for battle in his chainmail and a damaging sword at his side.

"It was only a nightmare Anabelle." His voice was soft and soothed her.

"Are you leaving soon?"

"Shortly." He told her, taking her hand. "I awoke with you sleeping by my side. Why did you not wake me when you arrived?"

"You have far too early a day. I had Gwaine bring me here. I cannot get around these nightmares of Trystan and-"

Arthur leaned down to kiss her cheek. He smiled weakly at her. "I will be back at your side before you know it."

"You must take caution Arthur." Anabelle sat up, hugging herself to Arthur even as Merlin gave another look of misunderstanding to their friendship. "Trystan has not been found, and if you are investigating rumors of magic-"

"Do not fret my Princess. I will take every precaution and return as safe as I am now." He hugged her in return before standing to leave.

Anabelle stopped Merlin before he left the large room with Arthur.

"When you return, do not allow the girl to be seen."

He only nodded in recognition, disappearing behind the doors to exit.

Anabelle jumped up, running to the doors, exiting the room. "And be safe." She shouted as the man chuckled at her comment.

She hadn't realized anyone else around before his voice spoke.

"Good morning Princess Anabelle." He formally addressed her, causing suspicion in the woman.

Something had changed in him since they'd last spoken, but it was unclear what that was.

"Good morning." She returned, determined to explore the distance he tried to keep.

"I can assume that it was your idea that I stay." Mordred guessed as he followed close behind Anabelle making her way back to her own room.

"It was my idea. If you care to argue my decision, I will tell you why I keep you here." She did not deny her request to Arthur.

"Why?"

Anabelle stopped outside of her door, Mordred standing closer to her now. "I am trying to keep history as it should be." She half-lied.

Mordred gave a slight smile. "Is that the only reason?"

She shrugged before opening her doors. "I also think it will give us opportunity to talk without fear of ears within the walls."

Mordred followed into her room as she went to her closet, preparing for the long day ahead. Flipping through each dress in her large cabinet, Anabelle settled upon a bright blue dress. Bringing it closer to admire, she stepped back as a silver pin fell to the floor, coming unhooked from her dress. It was not a pin that she recognized, but clearly her protective Knight did. He pulled her and her dress behind him.

"It has magic attached to it. I can feel it." He whispered to her.

"I feel it too." Anabelle shuddered, sending a clue to the man.

"It belongs to the lady Morgana." Mordred informed her. "How did it come to rest in your closet?"

Anabelle looked as wild eyed as the man with her. "Your guess is as good as mine." She considered the thought of Morgana sneaking around the castle or getting past her Knights, and into her room. It would be impossible even for the most-clever of sorcerers.

"I have not yet worn this dress. It is possible that the pin was placed while Morgana still kept residence within the walls here."

Mordred nodded in half-acceptance, still wary to let Anabelle go. Leading her to the opposite side of her room, Anabelle dressed as he looked away. Curious as to why he shied away from her now, Anabelle started to question the man.

"You're behaving oddly. Have I done something to cause this?"

As she sat down onto her bed, Mordred sat beside her. "This is not easy for me Anabelle." He started.

"Uh-oh." She returned. "I don't think I'm going to enjoy where this conversation is headed.

He did not give any indication of regret, but his own defeat was clear. "You are everything to me Anabelle." He admitted. "I did not think it possible to ever find anyone like you. When we first met shortly, I could no longer imagine being with any other. Losing you for the time after and feeling as though I would never again see you was nothing short of unbearable."

"And yet, the look on your face gives me reason to believe that you will not allow me to fully accept your heart."

"This will not last." Mordred stated. "You will leave this place sooner or later and you will forget me not long after."

Anabelle gave a laugh, taking her hand from his, standing from her bed. "Is that what you think?" You stupid man." She accused.

Mordred cocked his head to the side, readying for the harsh courage she could show. Instead her face exposed her understanding. "Do you honestly believe that I would leave without thinking of you always? It is difficult enough knowing that I no longer look to leaving this place." She sighed. "To have you feel as though you mean so little to me is cruel, and you are not a cruel man."

"I cannot ask you to stay Anabelle."

"Why not?" She demanded him to respond. The aching in her stung as though it were taking over. She had not experienced such damaging unreasonable feelings in all of her life. She guessed that this was what if felt like to so deeply in love with another. True passion evoked devotion, fear, respect, irrationality, and love all at once. Her stomach flipped each time she was near him, even when they were parted for mere minutes. It was fear she felt in her heart now- the fear of her own loss.

"It would not be fair my love." Mordred bowed his head as he knew that he was hurting her as much as he hurt. That was not his intention.

"Do you love me? Do you truly love me?" Anabelle questioned, fearing the answer he gave would be yes. That would be worse than a no.

"I love you more than anything Anabelle." He stood, going to her, his hands holding her waist.

She looked away from him. "Then I must lose my own heart to a man who loves me but risks so little to accept it in return."

"I risk everything, including my own life Anabelle."

"You risk your life, but not your rationality and unity."

"I don't understand." He urged her to go on.

"I have learned in a short time that love is not always so rational, but to genuinely give one's heart means that you understand that. For all of the greatness true love gives, in its irrationality, love will make you also want to jump from ledges. Just ask the King. He has lost his love, and he will never be the same man he once was. It takes everything in me not to cry for him."

Mordred saw the pain in the woman across from him. She had agreed in her mind to love him in return, but he still did not know that their love would be enough to keep her. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her body to his. Closing his eyes, he whispered into her ear.

"Stay.' He implored.

She held him close for longer, eventually moving her head back to see the despair in his desire. Standing on her toes to reach her mouth to his, she kissed him with an intensity neither had ever felt. She wanted to stay with him; she wanted to tell him that she would be with him for all of their days, and that she would give up all she knew for him, but if she could not keep that promise it would destroy them both. She settled instead for being near him now.

This time was different she knew as he held and touched her with a carefulness he had not shown the last time. He had told her that he loved her as she had done the same. This was the difference between sex and love. Laying her down slowly, his hand glided over her, his eyes showing a longing that had not been there before. Encouraged by every bit of him, Anabelle pulled him closer, wanting to know the parts of him that she did not. Linking her fingers to his, she closed her eyes, letting the still foreign sensations carry her away.

Mordred knew that this sort of behavior was not under normal circumstances anything that he would casually engage in. It simply was not done unless emotions were not involved. He had been with Anabelle before, but not like this. The magic in him felt like it would implode. Running his tongue over her neck and shoulders was all he could do to control the surging in him. He felt the pins run over him as her hands slipped from his, sliding under his loosened tunic, touching his skin with her palms, and raking her nails down his back. He let a guttural and unrestricted groan escape.

"Anabelle." He spoke against her skin, saying his name in a way that he had not done to this point. Slipping the straps of her tempting dress down her arms, he revealed every pleasure she gave him.

His mouth was more of a danger to her than it had been before. Her back arched every time he placed it upon her body. Moving her hand up his thighs as his did the same to her, Anabelle soon started to undress him. Lifting herself further onto her bed, she straddled him now, her fingers scratching his now bare chest. It exhilarated her to know that she could conjure such uninhibited conduct from him, having his hips lifting and rhythmically thrusting as he pushed himself into her.

She was an indescribable miracle. Mordred knew that he had waited for the right woman to come into his life. Throwing his head back and moving with her in the ecstasy stirring them, there was nothing comparable to this feeling. He did not want it to end, making her call out his name with urgency, love, and obsession all blended as one. No woman had ever used his name in such a passionate context.

"More Anabelle." His throat was dry and he sounded so rough, bringing her back to him again. As she writhed and arched, both felt the explosion. He held her close still, his mouth fixed to her as they rolled to their sides.

"I love you." He said against her lips.

The two had since found the exhilaration in them slowing a marginal degree. Anabelle was visibly worn out, falling into a sleep. Feeling exhaustion creeping in, Mordred fought against it. Laying his head down, he faced her, his mouth inches from hers again.

Anabelle had another dream while she rested this time around. She was happy as she saw the friend whom she had also missed terribly. She could not admit it to Arthur, but she hadn't realized how much she missed Morgana until seeing the lady standing in her room above her. Mordred slept still beside her as she sat up, covering herself as Morgana smiled the way she always did when with Anabelle.

"I have missed you these long years Anabelle." Morgana said quietly and sweetly. Despite anything felt between Morgana and the King, she had always loved and appreciated Anabelle. The now grown Princess had nothing to do with the quarrel between her and Arthur.

"You have been away for so long." The two embraced one another. "Why have you not been to see me?" She handed the Princess a robe from the edge of her bed. As Anabelle looked embarrassed by her inability to see her friend, Morgana went on.

"Is he well?" She referred to Mordred. "Is he happy?"

Anabelle turned to the sleeping man, running her hand through his hair. "He is quite well." She smiled, looking back to Morgana. "He loves me."

"Well, of course he does." Morgana giggled, finally sitting next to her friend. "He would not be at your side if he did not."

Anabelle sighed. "Sometimes I watch him, so fascinated by everything that lies dormant inside of him, and this secret he must keep so guarded. I have not yet approached the subject of his magic. I fear he will not react so well, but for the very first time since my arrival I felt it bursting in him. It was… unbelievable."

"Have you told him of your own magic?" Morgana's hand placed to Anabelle's hair, playing with the tresses as she once had been permitted to do so long ago. "Arthur does not yet know of your magic?" She inquired, looking around the room nervously.

"Of course he does not know. My magic is what keeps him from ever being dishonest with me." She noticed Morgana's caution. "He is away on patrol. He, Gwaine, and Leon would go bat crap crazy if they knew you were here now."

"Yes." She agreed. "But I have missed you dearly."

The two women hugged happily again, thrilled to see one another.

"If my brother had his way, I would not see you again."

Anabelle looked away slightly. "I do not know who else I can come to with this Morgana." She approached a new subject, playing the strings of the Priestess.

"You and I were always like sisters. You were always kind to me Anabelle. I would help you in any way I must."

The Princess looked back to her, unsure if the other woman were powerful enough to grasp Anabelle's true purpose.

"Why have you not come to me with any troubles sooner?"

"I had intended to do so, but Arthur would never allow it. He has three guards trailing my every move at all times."

Morgana nodded. "He has always taken such care with you."

"I do not wish to discuss the devotion the King shows me. I want to make a deal with you my lady."

Intrigued by her offer, Morgana listened, tensing when Mordred turned over.

"I am well aware of your mission to see magic returned to this time. It is the silent wish of so many, but it is feared."

"That is not new information."

"No, but the understanding that I can help return it to you is new."

"How are you able to do that?"

"I know every part of the coming battle and how it will end Morgana. There are small pieces that if in my hands I can consider changing in order to help the cause."

"And Arthur?"

Anabelle immediately looked sadder, lowering her head in respect for her best-friend.

"Arthur will die no matter what decisions I make. It is his fate, and I cannot change that even if I have the opportunity. I will have to say goodbye to him. I will cross that bridge and bear that cross when the time comes. She took a moment to mourn the idea of Arthur leaving her. "By changing the hand of the one who is to take the King's life will do much to change fate's design."

"What must I do to give and gain your help?" Morgana wanted to know.

Anabelle lifted her shoulders in another sigh. "You must give me time. A few days at most to change the hand of Arthur's death. I would also ask that you arrange a meeting between me and Gwen. It is important."

Morgana tilted her head, lifting an eyebrow.

"I will find a way to get past my ever so protective guards. If I must use magic to do so, so be it."

The two agreed to the terms of the agreement.

"And finally, I must ask you if you have any knowledge of the man I am running from. He means to murder me. He would look as out of place as I do."

"I have seen no other from your time Anabelle. If he is here, he is well hidden."

"He has attacked me here twice already. If not for Mordred, I would likely already be dead."

"Mordred is quite taken with you."

"And I with him." She pondered the statement she gave. "He is the only reason I would ever considered staying." The revelation surprised ever her. "If you find any sign or word of the man looking for me…"

"I will kill him first Anabelle. You do not only have the protection of the King, but me as well." Morgana assured her friend.

"He has magic. It is more powerful than my own." Anabelle gave any information that would help.

"He is not more powerful than me."

Her arrogance was clear, but Anabelle would not comment for fear of not having help. The two women embraced before Mordred awoke.

"I must go now, but we will see each other again."

"We will indeed Morgana." Anabelle smiled, promising to meet both Morgana and Gwen in three days time. When night fell and the moon would rise full, the three women would gather. Anabelle had to find a way to slip the guard of Gwain, Leon, and Mordred. She considered bringing Mordred with her, knowing how Morgana missed him even if she did not say.


	6. Chapter 6: The Twisted Rules of War

**The Last Priestess: Part II**

Chapter 6: **The Twisted Rules of War**

"Good night my lady." Mordred spoke, kissing Anabelle's forehead as the pair stood in her doorway.

Unable to disguise the bewilderment within her, Anabelle kept his hands linked with hers. "You are not staying?

He chuckled at her insatiable desire to keep him captive for much longer than the week they'd had, but had to convince her otherwise.

"I cannot stay." He took his hands from hers, moving them to her waist, bring her closer, once more reveling in the sweet scent of her hair and skin. "Arthur will return in only a few short hours." He whispered, cheering the young woman up a few marginal degrees.

As blissful and exhilarated as she had felt over the past week, Anabelle had in fact missed the King. She smiled, leaning her head to Mordred's chest.

"That is still hours away." Her fingers traced down the side of his neck, triggering the temptation she had learned to use.

Swallowing hard and pulling every shred of resistance he held so tentatively to, Mordred kissed the woman again, and back away.

"Anabelle, no." He commanded, stepping out of the doorway, preparing to leave. "Go back inside, lock your door, and get your rest before Arthur returns."

Frowning like a child who had lost her candy, Anabelle did as she was asked. She changed her clothes for bed, concluding that the distance between them was likely a better idea. She did not want Arthur or the other Knights to find out about them by walking in on something they should not. Anabelle intended to inform the King of her trysts with Mordred soon enough, but just as her Arthur would never conventionally apologize to her, she knew better than to approach him with big new using any expected methods.

Upon his return, Arthur found Anabelle sitting near the Knight's training arena where Mordred both trained with his brothers, and vigilantly kept eyes upon the Princess. Descending a set of steps, Arthur motioned for the Knights to keep silent as he snuck up behind his Anabelle, scooping her up into his arms, surprising her with his late return. Once worn off, Anabelle delight and shock turned to curiosity and discord. She could see in the King's eyes that she had been correct. His hunting party had come upon the druid girl, but by the look on Arthur's face, she knew he had not returned with her.

She eyes Arthur briefly, sending him a look of her own, one that her friend was all too familiar with.

"We need to speak in private." She insisted.

In immediate agreement, Arthur allowed the Knight's that his Princess was by his side. Mordred nodded, unable to witness the swiftness within the departure the two took. Walking at a quick pace into the castle, Arthur kept Anabelle's hand with his even as they passed Leon and Gwaine without any conversation. Arriving within his chambers minutes later, the door was locked without argument from Anabelle.

"You cannot let anyone else know that you or your accompanying Knights had anything to do with that woman's death." Annabelle insisted, facing Arthur with her arms crossed to her chest. "How did it happen?"

Arthur had not been given even a chance to turn around and explain before Anabelle began her own inquisition. He hesitated for only seconds before his own resolve kicked in, responding just as directly and impassively as the Princess had.

"She was struck by an arrow before we arrived upon her. We had every intention of bringing her to face her crimes. She had magic." Arthur clarified.

"What happened?"

"Trystan."

The single word sent fear into Anabelle. She went rigid, rushing to the arms of her friend. "Who else was hurt?" She didn't want to know the answer to her question, but had to know despite her reservations.

"No one but the woman." Arthur shook his head, holding his friend to his chest. "But when Trystan appeared and struck the girl, Gwaine being Gwaine, struck Trystan with his sword. So did I."

Anabelle gave a short laugh. "Retribution I'm guessing. Trystan should have expected that you would attack."

"He did." The King agreed. "But he wasn't there to attack us this time, but I'm sure he has a plan by now. The girl…"

Anabelle leaned back, letting go of Arthur. "She was a druid. She did have magic, and she did have connections to the lady Morgana." Wavering for just a few moments, Anabelle tentatively approached the sensitive subject of the dark Priestess.

"Arthur, I want to talk to you about Morgana." She was facing away from the man, unwilling to watch the expressions on his face as she brought up her intentions.

"I have nothing to say about Morgana, nor do I wish to…" Arthur was cut off as the loud knock hit his doors. Disinclined to let the discussion continue, he unlocked his door, allowing Merlin to enter.

"There is a messenger waiting in the Throne room Arthur." The young sorcerer spoke quietly.

"A messenger? Where from?"

"He would not say your highness. He only says that he wishes to speak with the Princess."

Both men turned directly back to Anabelle. After Arthur had revealed that Trystan was harmed, none were too excited to rush to see a messenger sent to Anabelle. She only shook her head, unaware of the man's identity.

"Let us go and see who he is and what message he has for me." The Princess offered while the two men stood, waiting for her decision.

"He could be here to hurt you." Merlin offered.

Anabelle knew the risks of being a royal figure. "I take that risk everyday no matter where I am Merlin. I cannot let that stop me. I can only defend myself."

"You will stay behind me." Arthur commanded her, no pause or indecision in his voice.

"You have my word." She replied, taking his hand as they followed Merlin out through the doors. "There is one more thing I should like to discuss when you have the time." She whispered to the King, his eyes focused only on what may lie ahead.

He nodded in agreement, promising they would find time alone again. Reaching the front doors of the castle, Arthur stopped, causing Anabelle to do the same as Merlin exited, walking down the long set of steps.

The man did not look as though he knew Anabelle personally, but was definitely from this particular time. His eyes looked around both Merlin and Arthur to see that the Princess stood nearby.

"I have a message for you Princess." He spoke directly to Anabelle.

And without acknowledgment to Arthur, or care for her safety, royal protocol kicked in. Anabelle straightened her shoulders, lifted her head, and all the while kept her hand tight to the King.

"From whom do you bring this message?"

"The lady Morgana sends you a message Princess." He spoke, bowing his head and shoulders to her, acknowledging her title as Morgana likely told him to do.

Anabelle might have considered walking down the steps to the man if not for the two men still standing at the ready, expecting any danger. Instead, she allowed Merlin to take the rolled up parchment from the clearly uncomfortable man Morgana had employed.

"Stand down." She whispered to Arthur. "He is not here to harm me." She then gained a very suspicious look from the King, who did in fact relax a bit. "Thank you." She then spoke to both the messenger and Merlin, who handed the paper to Anabelle.

Once his obligation was finished, the man bowed his head again, turned away, and left without cause for trouble.

Anabelle was happy to receive word from Morgana, but would not open the letter in public. She alternatively turned around, deciding to head to the safety of her own room, walking away as Arthur followed, interested and bothered by the sudden communication between the two women. He knew of course how close the two women had been for years, but was not oblivious to the knowledge that nothing good ever came from contact with Morgana. Finally catching up to Anabelle's side, he calmly walked alongside his friend, pulling his arm around her shoulders. The calm he experienced when she was close enough to touch, never ceased to amaze him. The two walked slowly in quiet contentment to Anabelle's room. Arthur entered after her, closing the door behind.

"There is something you have failed to tell me." He accused, keeping his voice calm and steady still as Anabelle sat down, not yet opening her letter.

"I haven't intentionally kept anything from you my sweet." The Princess replied. "I tried to talk to you about Morgana not ten minutes ago, but you refused to listen. Are you ready to do so now?"

The still concerned King nodded, sitting across from Anabelle this time. Whatever she had to say, he was not going to like, so distance was the best plan this time.

Anabelle folded her hands to her lap and took in a deep breath before speaking. "While you were away recently, Morgana visited me."

Arthur's eyes went as wide as they could. He was in complete disbelief. "That is impossible. She would never take such a high risk of sneaking past anyone here."

This was where it got complicated, and Anabelle knew it would only cause more of an argument, but what choice did she have?

"I was asleep while she visited. She is well aware of the risks involved with seeing me, so she would not visit in the flesh."

Arthur did not know what to say in response, so he stayed quiet, listening to Anabelle until she finished.

Once Anabelle and Arthur were finished speaking about Morgana, Anabelle was neither shocked nor surprised by the decisions her friend had made. She was however motivated to defy his command. She would deal with the consequences if and when they came. Morgana's letter unbeknownst to the King requested Anabelle's company just outside of Camelot's borders this evening once the castle went to sleep. The only problem with that was getting past her guarding Knights who took shifts guarding her doorway. She would never sneak past Leon, Gwaine would never be convinced to let her go anywhere on her own, but Mordred, she thought she could possibly convince to accompany her.

Impatiently, the plotting Princess waited through her dinner with Arthur, and the sun to fall. She paced her room until Mordred entered. He was given permission to protect her within her room. This night however, would be different. She ran her fingers through the man's hair as he approached her, his hands at her waist.

"I must ask a favor of you." She spoke with much formality.

"You know I would do anything for you Anabelle." His voice was light with genuine affection.

"Do you love me?" She knew the answer.

"With all of my heart." Mordred said, wondering why she would question his feelings for her.

"Do you trust me?"

"Have I given you reason to doubt me my lady?"

"No." She said before kissing him, wondering if it would be the last time she did so. She was asking a great deal from the man.

"You must promise not to be cross when you know what I must do in order to keep your history and mine aligned."

"You have my word." He agreed.

Anabelle paused, turning to look out of her window. The lights of Camelot shined so bright still. "I need you to escort me to see the lady Morgana."

Naturally, Mordred disagreed, refusing her request before hearing her fully illuminate the details of her circumstances. She told him of her short and unexpected visit with her friend, seeing him come around ever so slowly. He had kept his promise not to become cross with her.

"I told Arthur about my conversation with Morgana and about the deal I had to make with her—pieces of it anyway. I made this deal with Morgana so that Camelot will stay safe, but when I told the King that I wished to see Morgana again, he refused on the grounds that although she would never consider harming me, she would possibly harm the Knights who insist on joining me."

"The King was right to refuse."

"He was not right to do so." She debated. "He was however correct to assume that the lady would contemplate harming many of the Knights here in Camelot, but not you Mordred. She will not take you from me. She knows that I care deeply for you."

Mordred sighed rather loudly, lowering his head briefly. When his eyes finally lifted to hers, he was still uncertain of what he might do, but continued the discussion.

"You are still keeping dangerous secrets from the King."

"I have every intention of telling Arthur of my actions later, but I do not believe for even a second that I can face this lion's den without you. I need you Mordred." She implored, pulling at the heart strings of the man.

Walking back to her, taking her in his arms, his armor keeping her at an unfair distance, he knew he could not change her mind, and knew even more that he would not let her do this on her own.

"I would never let you face her or anyone else on your own Anabelle." He leaned back, keeping her facing him. "But you can longer keep these secrets from me. I do not keep them from you."

"Agreed." She would not push the issue of his darkest and deepest secret. She was already in deeper than she wanted to be. She was in danger, she was far too in love for her own good, and had just been asked not to keep her secrets. That in her mind included the secret of her own magic. She would have to eventually and soon come clean about that. She squeezed the hand of her love, and guided him to follow as she wrapped her cloak around her. Mordred opened her door, looking to see if anyone wandered the corridors. He motioned for her to follow shortly after. Following closely behind the young Knight, Anabelle stopped abruptly before rounding a corner. Mordred stopped with her, coming to stand by her side. He said nothing, but gave a puzzling look. She dropped her hand from his, pressing it to his chest.

"Stay." She mouthed, rounding the corner on her own, coming face to face again with Merlin, who wandered the halls curiously late into the night, Anabelle thought.

"You're up late Princess." Merlin noticed her attire, understanding less and less of her motives.

"As are you." She returned.

Merlin watched as she shifted uneasily. "You are going to see Morgana, aren't you?" His question sounded more like a statement than a question- one that he already knew the answer to.

"I am." Anabelle did not know how he could have come to know the details of her letter or her plan to see Morgana, but she let it go. There was still much that she needed to tell him.

"But Arthur has forbidden you from seeing her."

"He has."

"And still you are leaving," he paused, seeing movement from behind the corner Anabelle had come from, "and you are taking Mordred with you." His tone was low and a touch fearful of Anabelle and the information she kept. He then watched Mordred step from the shadows, taking Anabelle by the hand.

"You cannot go to Morgana. You cannot trust her."

"You cannot trust her." Anabelle stated firmly. "I can still trust her with condition. This must be done." Her eyes softened. "It is the only way to save my future, the future of Camelot, and the future of magic."

Merlin understood all too well of what she meant. Meeting with Morgana with Mordred by her side would be the way to keep Arthur from Mordred's sword.

"I still cannot let you do this." He refused. "She is a danger to you even if you do not admit it."

"Do not stand in our way Merlin." Mordred voiced quietly. "No one need be hurt." He partially threatened.

"Arthur will be destroyed when he finds out where you have gone. Both his Queen and his Princess have sided with Morgana."

"I am not siding with Morgana." Anabelle angrily stated. "I am gaining what I need in order to keep you and others from more harm than you can imagine. And the King will find me in my bed by the morning with my Knights waiting outside of my Fort Knox protected doors."

"Mordred." His plea did not go ignored. "Please don't allow her to go through with this."

"What would you do?" Mordred replied, turning his eyes to those of the other sorcerer. "Tell me you would not take the same risk for the woman you love." He then looked to Anabelle, feeling every bit of love she showed in return.

Merlin then saw how strong the bond between the couple had become. He had become more aware of how deeply Anabelle cared for Mordred, but had truly known how close the two had grown. They would not be separated by Morgana.

"Go." He told them. "Go now and be back before the morning."

"Not a word Merlin." Anabelle warned. "Upon pain of death, and where Arthur will only threaten, I will take action."

"If your plan works Princess, I will have no need to speak of any of this."

Mordred was not prepared to so arbitrarily face the now dark-hearted lady he had once known. He knew that any kindness she held was now buried so deep that only death would release it. Drawing his sword at the slightest of noises, he kept Anabelle close. The Princess he so adored was not aware of the overwhelming darkness residing in Morgana. As the two approached the agreed upon location, Anabelle was pulled to a stop. When she turned, she could not ignore his hesitation.

"I have a bad feeling about this Anabelle." He admitted to her, quickly hiding and trepidation when he saw the gentleness in her eyes. "I cannot let you do this."

"Mordred, I have no other option my love. My Kingdom, my history, and my life stand in peril if I do not see this through."

"You would defy and betray the King, your friend, and a man you also claim to love?"

"I would defy anyone to keep safe those I love."

"You do not need to do this."

"I wish you could understand why I do this." She reached her palm to his cheek.

"You are lying to Arthur and have trapped me into doing so as well."

"I have done no such thing. I told Arthur all about Morgana. He was and continues to be concerned, but he also agreed that Morgana would never harm me. She loves me like a sister."

"The lady Morgana is treacherous, deceitful, and not to be trusted. She lies."

"Not to me she doesn't. She cannot lie to me. It is impossible." She paused, seeing Mordred lift an eyebrow. She would return to that secret at a later time. Both knew that Morgana had arrived not seconds later. The magic in the air was undeniably thick.

"Anabelle." The raven-haired Priestess happily greeted, stepping from the darkness of the trees. Behind Morgana, walked the Queen, and by the look of it, Anabelle knew she was in for an uphill battle.

"Morgana." She greeted with sweetness, unable to go to her as Mordred subtly caught her arm.

Morgana noticed the action and did not approve at all. "I thought you would come alone."

With a grimace, Anabelle played more strings. "Last we spoke my lady, I could not help but notice the dismay you showed when you saw Mordred. I hoped that you might enjoy an audience with him for a short time." She then turned back to Mordred. "I must speak with the Queen alone."

The Knight vehemently shook his head in rejection. "That was not our understanding."

"Our agreement is for you to allow me to keep history written as it is meant to be. In order for this to be finished, you must concede to play nicely with the lady Morgana."

He promised not to be cross with her. That is what Mordred kept telling himself as he agreed to walk away with Morgana, giving Anabelle what she wanted. He watched her even as he left, giving her the peace to know that he would not be far, and would continue to watch.

Battling within herself as she watched Mordred disappear into the night, Anabelle wrestled between diplomacy or brutal honesty. Brutal honesty won the battle.

"I know how you feel about me." She said, finally gaining words and acknowledgement from Guinevere.

"I highly doubt that."

"Arthur told me about what happened. I honestly do not blame you for disliking me or him, but you must understand that I am devastatingly in love with the Knight who has just left my side."

At this confession, Guinevere's eyes met those of the out of place Princess.

"I am here to talk—Nothing more." She received little reaction and soon went on. "I am here out of love."

Gwen scoffed. "I no longer love Arthur."

"I am here out of love for Mordred." Anabelle corrected. "And Arthur to many degrees." She had to admit. "I cannot save Arthur from his fate. I am here with you so that I may save Mordred. I must keep his hand from being the one to strike the King. I will not let him be the one to hold such a burden."

"I do not care if Arthur dies." The Queen stated.

"It is to our mutual benefit that you feel that way. It is exactly the reason why I need your help my Queen."

"Morgana speaks surprisingly highly of you Princess."

Anabelle nodded.

"She also says that you are not from this time."

Unwilling to divulge that illogical set of circumstances with the treacherous Queen, Anabelle changed the subject.

"I did not expect that I would come here and be expected to change the parts of history that that have slipped, but I also did not expect that I would fall so madly in love with Sir Mordred."

Anabelle now had the full attention of the Queen as both spoke quietly for longer. A short time later, the two were still speaking, the Queen smiling every so often. They were stopped as Mordred reappeared, moving to stand with Anabelle.

"You were right." Was all he could say before Morgana appeared, walking to the Princess, taking her hands.

"You must return before the sun begins to rise." Both women hugged and smiled, happy that they had the opportunity to see one another in person.

"Guinevere knows all that she needs. You must assist her as the battle nears."

"You have my promise Anabelle." Morgana said, stepping back as she and Guinevere blended once more into the night.

"We must hurry." Anabelle stated. She and Mordred quickly returned to the castle, and to her room before anyone else woke or knocked upon her doors.

"You said I was right." The tired Princess attempted an answer as she changed into her night dress.

Mordred had not said a word to her as they left Morgana and returned. She accepted that deep down he may have become cross with her, and he had the right to be. She had asked a lot of him. It may have been too much of her to ask, but he loved her, and hopefully would not let her choice to see Morgana come between them.

"I did." His voice was low as he sat, watching her crawl into bed, wanting more than anything to lie beside her. He kept his stoic manner. "I trust that the King will know of your meeting with Morgana."

"He will indeed." Anabelle promised. She had rightly assumed that Mordred needed time to reflect, and she would give him that. Laying her head onto her pillows, she knew there were more pressing items on her agenda now. Complicated was an understatement in describing what she now faced.


End file.
